Writing or blogging about your job is tricky. It's a tightrope walk with almost no safety net and a hard ground floor of legal nightmare, job loss and possible incarceration. My lawyer lightly suggested I do not do this, but my buddy Phil was more enthusiastic, so I'm going with that until my hand is forced otherwise. The truth of the matter, however, is that I'm no new-to-town, badass sheriff with an idgaf attitude; so before I try to take this on so brazenly, I think it's important to understand that I cannot talk about everything I see and do, and that my job as a door guy at a neighborhood bar is to facilitate and integrate safety, good times and consideration for all. That's what I'm going to put on my resume at least. So this may be one of those "cooler in theory" type things, and it may take some time to flesh out. But let's just see what happens, and try to stay out of jail in the meantime.
Observations for the evening:
- Everyone says the rain sucks and hates going out when it rains, the bar reflects that. But seriously, are we supposed to just get hammered every day? Serious question man, what do people in LA do?
- Some people try to get real clever when presenting their ID's; you know, the "everyone's a comedian" syndrome. It's actually kind of endearing. Anyway, a girl showed me her ID and told me she'd pull a quarter out of my ear after three beers. She didn't.
- Some ladies from Michigan tipped me $9 in wadded up cash for hailing them a cab, thank you fancy Nob Hill hotels for setting that precedent!
- If you were born in the 80's you're not allowed to gush about being "sooooo old". Stop it.
- A woman of respectable age jokingly said she used turkey grease to moisturize her face, then whispered in my ear that she also rubbed it in an inappropriate place. Awesome.
Ok, that's all for now.
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